Does it Help or Hurt?
by Dancing Through Life
Summary: Carl had everything - Popularity, friends, good grades, but when his family life falls apart, so does everything else, so he ends up in a place for special need. When he attacks a nurse, he is sent to Camp Green Lake. Will This Help or Hurt him?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own Carl and his family.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PROLOGUE  
Carl Stone was a normal ten year old kid. He enjoyed his life immensely, and in his eyes, it was perfect. He went to the best private school within driving distance, he was the star of his basketball team, and he had A's in everything (that's not including his B in Science, but who cares about the difference between xylem and phloem anyway?), he was popular, had many friends, was the happiest kid you ever saw. His parents wanted to give him the best they could afford, and went all out to do it. He had a secret, however - he was slightly mentally unstable.  
  
Okay, so maybe he didn't lead such a normal life after all.  
  
His dad was the president of a very successful peanut company. Everything anyone ever bought that had peanuts in it was made from his peanuts. Due to her husband's great success, Mrs. Stone devoted herself to her only child's success. She never had any free time, because she always wanted to make sure her son was happy and doing well.  
  
One day, while Carl was at school, Mrs. Stone was surprised when she came home from grocery shopping to find her husband at home. He was sitting on the couch looking depressed. Mrs. Stone knew something was terribly wrong.  
"There's been an accident" He said gravely. Mrs. Stone put her bags on the table and sat on his lap.  
"Tell me - it'll be easier to say it quickly." She said. She had always been a great form of comfort to him. Mr. Stone breathed in deeply.  
"The Indigo plantation burned last night - it's ruined beyond repair." Mrs. Stone gasped. The Indigo Plantation was where the company got all of its peanuts. The fact it was gone meant -  
"We have to go out of business, and now I'm jobless."  
"You just need to go searching for another one" Mrs. Stone cooed, brushing the hair out of his face. "You'll find one in no time." They decided not to tell Carl, figuring that it might upset and depress him.  
  
But no matter how hard Mr. Stone looked, he could not find another job. A week turned into a month; a month turned into six. Finally, the Stones knew that they had to sell the house for a cheaper one in a cheaper village, pull Carl out of his pricy school, and most of all, tell him.  
  
The night the Stones were going to tell Carl, Mr. Stone ran. Mrs. Stone, in panic, ran to his closet in order to see if he even considered the idea of packing anything. He hadn't, but what scared Mrs. Stone senseless was the fact that she found herself looking at large bottles of vodka. This left her to tell Carl herself, and to never see her husband again. 


	2. Decisions

Disclaimer: I own Carl and his family.  
  
A/N. Okay, I know that last chapter was kind of bad, but I will do better this time. By the way, my first fanfic!  
  
Three Years Later.  
  
Mrs. Stone had not heard from her husband since the night he had run off. It had not been easy to tell Carl what had been going on, and he didn't take it very well, either. Carl was especially upset about not being told right away.  
  
Carl was not doing well at his new, public school. The kids thought he was some sort of freak, with his good grades and all, and it was really hard not to brag about them, since the work was so incredibly easy for him. But in additions to his problems at school, he was beginning to have some at home, as well.  
  
Mrs. Stone had done well in the beginning as single mother. She got herself a job as a secretary at a publishing company, and even though the pay wasn't to good, they got by on it. However, about a year after the downfall of the peanut business, Mrs. Stones father died, leaving her all alone, which was something she never had to handle before. Mrs. Stone and her three siblings went into a panic and couldn't agree about anything on what to do. Eventually, Mrs. Stone spent so much time arguing with her siblings that she was laid off, and didn't have time to search for another job. The money lasted for about two months, and when it ran out, they had to go on welfare. But Mrs. Stone turned cold toward Carl; every night it was make dinner, set the table, clear the table, do your homework, go to bed - and she snapped these things at him.  
  
Carl didn't like it. It was damaging to his mental state. It showed, when one day, after being constantly teased, yelled at, and flunking, when he started to scream and wouldn't stop. No one could make him stop.  
  
And then, the evil decision came: He was going to a mental asylum. 


	3. The Attack

Disclaimer: I own Carl, his family, and everything at the mental asylum.  
  
"Now Carl, it's time for you to go to bed. Do you remember the routine?" A nurse with very wide glasses was staring Carl in the eye. He sighed.  
  
"Yes, Mrs. Winter" Carl knew the routine, all right. It was almost the same in every hygienically safe home.  
  
"Recite it for me" Mrs. Winter did this every night. Carl really did not understand her. It felt to him like she thought he was some sort of stupid four year old. Yes, he was mentally unstable, with a mother who became a drunk as soon as he left home, a father who ran away at the first sign of danger, friendless, and in a mental institute, but he was not four years old and most definitely not stupid  
  
"We kick the nurse out the window and make a run for it" He said sardonically. Mrs. Winter pursed her lips. When she did this, Carl could never help feeling that she highly resembled a fish with goggles on.  
  
"Now Carl, that's not very nice. You know, you could have ended up with a much worse caregiver than me. Not everyone is as forgiving as I am." Carl decided he wanted to go to sleep. He could feel his temper rising, so he figured giving in would be best.  
  
His temper had been rising steadily since he arrived here two months before. It was partly because Mrs. Winter drove him nuts, but it was mainly because he had anger against his mother. Why couldn't she get along with her siblings? Why did she have to yell at him all the time? Why did she have to pick up the bottle? WHY WAS HE HERE???  
  
"First we brush our teeth, and then wash our face, not forgetting to use the Stridex. Then we kiss Mrs. Winter good night, say our prayers, and fall asleep."  
  
"Very good Carl. I'm going to watch you do it." She sat on her stool in the bathroom behind him. There was a curtain around the toilet, and that and the shower were the only places Mrs. Winter wasn't allowed to follow him. Thank god. A boy needs at least some privacy.  
  
Carl had improved since he had been here. He was almost as stable as he had been before his dad left home. But he still had this temper problem. He knew he would have to find someway to control it, or he'd be in even more trouble.  
  
Mrs. Winter was the same as always when he climbed into bed that night. He really hated the part where he had to kiss her, but he always did it.  
  
"Now, dream happy dreams, and make believe that you're with your dad, and you are both very happy, and you are home and this never happened" Carl shot up in bed. At that moment he knew that Mrs. Winter had not bothered to do any research on her client. If she had, she would have known that his dad left him three years before. She had always said "mom" where she had said "dad". The change was not a good thing for Carl.  
  
"You bitch!" He cried. Mrs. Winter was shocked.  
  
"Carl! That is not something you want to go around calling people! Why, I -" But what she was about to say about herself, Carl didn't want to know or wait. He threw off his sheets and grabbed the nurse's neck.  
  
"You pathetic moron. My dad left me. He was a drunk. You think I'm in here for schizophrenia, or something like it, don't you? Well, it's not that. I'm slightly mentally unstable (yes, I even admit it!) and I've been getting abuse from my mom and school for the past three years, which would put anyone over the edge!" He let go of her neck and gave her a shove. She fell over his night table and screamed. Carl jumped off his bed and started punching her.  
  
Miss Pearl, the nurse caring for the girl next door, ran in. She screamed at the sight of Carl, attacking his nurse. She pressed the security button on the door. Within minutes, there were police officers and doctors in his room. One doctor grabbed Carl, and stuck a tranquilizer in his back. Within seconds, Carl passed out. 


	4. The Sentence

Disclaimer: I own Carl, his family, and everything that goes with the mental asylum.  
  
A/N I would like to take this moment and thank the reviewers who have made my first fanfic so much fun to write: x0xTrinityx0x and Nosilla!  
  
When Carl woke up, he was having trouble breathing. He tried to sit up, intending to tell Mrs. Winter exactly what was going on, only he couldn't do it. Then he remembered what happened before he fell asleep. He looked down and nearly screamed.  
  
He was in a straightjacket.  
  
There was a noise at the door. Mrs. Winter looked in.  
  
"Ah, I see that the sleeping prince has awoken. Would his highness like some food?" She asked, one of those I-have-won-this-argument smiles and tone of voice. But Carl would have none of it. He knew that Mrs. Winter was here taking care of him only for the money; no normal nurse wouldn't research their client and say something to pop his bubble.  
  
"Ah, still trying to play nice, aren't you, Drusilla?" Carl asked icily. "I swear, you've ruined your chances with me. Nurses are supposed to know the histories of their clients." Mrs. Winter raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I'll have you know, boy, that you are going on trial tomorrow afternoon for assault. You don't have a very good chance, you know - no lawyer, and the fact that you are in a mental hospital means that you will not, I repeat, NOT be taken very seriously."  
  
"At least I'll be away from you, Bitch" With that, Mrs. Winter picked up the bowl she had been holding and stormed from the room.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
At the trial the next day, Mrs. Winter was right; he was sentenced. However, the judge noticed how sane Carl looked and pleaded his case, so Mrs. Winter was ordered to resign from nursing and strongly advised to get another job.  
  
But the verdict still stood; 18 months at Camp Green Lake 


	5. A time to think

Disclaimer: Same as before  
  
Carl stared at the bus seat in front of him. He wondered if the intricate designs of the seat back were code, needing some serious cryptography. Maybe some boy just like him had scratched out some sort of "I need Help" message. There was nothing to see out the window except for sand.  
  
The guard sitting across from him had a gun. Maybe if Carl made a run for it, he would be shot and put out of his misery. Not a bad idea, really. Then there would be no more hate mail or phone calls from his mom. No more depressed life.  
  
But then again, that is exactly something that Mrs. Winter would want him to do. So that was out.  
  
Carl was beginning to get a headache from staring at the lines. Now he had nothing to stare at, except the guard, which he knew would be a bad idea. People don't like it when you stare at them too long.  
  
"Wake up, Boy!" The guard was shaking him awake. "Time to go, now!"  
  
Carl wondered how long he slept, but didn't dare ask the guard.  
  
Carl took a good first look at his new home for eighteen months: Camp Green Lake. 


	6. Arrival

Disclaimer: Same as before  
  
The guard grabbed Carl by the arm and harshly dragged him off the bus. Carl wanted to tell the guard that if he really wanted to treat him rough, he might as well be back in the asylum. But then he remembered the gun and how he didn't want to give Mrs. Winter that pleasure. He wouldn't.  
  
Carl could see that Camp Green Lake consisted of tents, two cabins, a large pavilion that looked like a mess hall, a shack, and lots and lots of holes. He wondered what the holes were from.  
  
The guard dragged him into the larger cabin, where a short, balding man was sitting behind a desk chewing on sunflower seeds. The guard threw Carl down and then promptly walked back to the bus, groaning about another nine hours back.  
  
Was it really nine hours? Wow. Carl must have slept for a long time.  
  
"My name is Mr. Sir. From now on, you will either call me "Mr. Sir" Understand?"  
  
"Yes Mr. Sir" Carl answered.  
  
"Good. This isn't Girl Scouts." Mr. Sir got up from behind his desk and walked into the next room.  
  
"Follow me" He said to Carl. They went into the next room, and Mr. Sir did an inspection of Carl's backpack. Finding nothing that needed to be taken away, the strip search was done, and Mr. Sir handed Carl two orange uniforms.  
  
"Put one on" Mr. Sir instructed. "That one will be your work uniform, and the other will be your rest one. When the laundry is done, the work one will become the rest one and vice versa. Are you ready to go meet your tent mates and counselor?"  
  
"Yes Mr. Sir, but may I ask a question?" Carl asked tentatively.  
  
"Make it snappy, I haven't got all day"  
  
"Will I be able to switch tents if I don't like the one I'm put in?" Mr. Sir started laughing hysterically, and he laughed so hard his face turned purple.  
  
"No, son. You are here for a reason. You will do what you are told and nothing less, understand? You will stay in the same tent for the next eighteen months, no arguments."  
  
"Yes Mr. Sir."  
"Now, lets go meet your tent mates. You start work tomorrow." 


	7. Hi, I'm Carl

Disclaimer: I own Carl, his family, everything that has to do with the mental asylum, and Jukebox.  
  
"Work? What work?" Carl asked bewildered.  
  
"How many times must I tell you this is not a Girl Scout Camp? Everyday you will dig a hole five feet deep and five feet wide. You get one canteen for the day, and it gets filled at noon. You dig with your tent mates."  
  
"But Mr. Sir - I'm only - "  
  
"It doesn't matter that you are younger then everybody else! The judge ruled that if you were strong enough to knock out a two hundred fifty pound nurse, you can shovel dirt. After all, you have reached teenage years, so you should be fine."  
  
"I knocked her out?" Carl asked bewilderedly.  
  
"Yes, you did, now let's meet your tent!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"This is Mr. Pendanski. He will take you around from here." Mr. Sir said. He then walked back to the main office.  
  
"Hi, I'm Mr. Pendanski, and you can remember my name by these three words: Pen, Dance, and Key."  
  
"I'm Carl"  
  
"Well, Carl, you will be in the D-tent. D stands for diligence." They walked to one of the tents. Inside were seven boys just sitting around and talking. Every single one of them looked older than Carl.  
  
"Boys, meet your new tent mate! This is Carl. Carl, these are José, Theodore, Ricky, Lewis, Alan, Rex, and Harold."  
  
"Mom! For the last time, my name is Jukebox!" Harold seemed horrified that more people then needed knew his first name.  
  
"They like to call me Mom, and I let them. It makes them feel like they're having a normal family life" Carl shuddered. A normal family life was not something he had had in the last couple of years.  
  
"They all have nicknames, as Harold just pointed out. Why don't you get to know each other?" Mr. Pendanski then proceeded out of the tent.  
  
"My God, you're younger then the rest of us! What did you do to get yourself into this crap hole?" Alan asked.  
  
"Squid! We introduce ourselves properly first!" Harold scolded. "I'm Jukebox."  
  
"I'm Squid" Said Alan.  
  
"I'm Magnet" Said Jose.  
  
I'm Armpit" Said Theodore.  
  
"I'm Zigzag" Said Ricky.  
  
"I'm Barf Bag" Said Lewis.  
  
"I'm X-Ray" Said Rex.  
  
"So Carl, how did you end up here?" Squid persisted. Carl took a deep breath.  
  
"Well, it's a really long story, and I'd rather not tell the whole thing, but in short, I had some problems at home, ended up in a mental asylum, and attacked a nurse twice my size and two and a half times my weight. Since I'm slightly mentally unstable, they figured I would be better off here with stuff to keep me busy." The tent was silent.  
  
"Well, that's tough. We'll help you keep your wits and maybe you'll tell us the whole story. But for now, let's have the tour." Jukebox decided. 


	8. A Time to Talk

Disclaimer: Same as before. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 8.  
  
Whack. Carl's shovel hit the ground, but didn't go in very far. He picked it up again. Whack. Same thing. Whack. Whack. Whack.  
  
Would it ever do what it was supposed to?  
  
The hours passed. Carl worked much slower then everyone else. After Mr. Pendanski came through with the water truck, everyone slowly began to leave. Carl pushed himself. He would not be left alone here.  
  
Finally, Carl was the last person there, and indeed they left him alone. His hole was five feet deep, but only four feet seven inches wide. It was just digging off the edges now. His only problem was that he couldn't reach the sides very well. Groaning, he picked up his shovel and made the effort.  
  
"Need help?" A voice said behind him. Carl jumped, dropping the shovel that landed on his foot. Falling backwards, he looked up into the face of Jukebox. He jumped into the hole.  
  
"Watch it there, little guy." Jukebox offered Carl a hand. Carl took it, and stood on his throbbing foot.  
  
"Could you please help me? I need another six inches around the outside."  
  
"No problem" Jukebox said casually. He picked up the disregarded shovel, and ran it around the side with such force he only needed to go around once.  
  
"Thanks" Carl said. He then tried to get out of his hole, but found that he couldn't. Jukebox laughed, pulled himself out of the hole, and pulled Carl out the arms.  
  
"Thanks" Carl said again.  
  
"How does it feel to be the little guy around here?" Jukebox asked.  
  
"It's odd. Do all first holes take that long?"  
  
"Yes they do. I have to say, you are the first one to figure that out." They started to walk back toward camp.  
  
"It's odd in what way?" Jukebox asked curiously.  
  
"Well, you see at home, everyone I was friends with was my age. I had popularity, friends, grades, everything. But here I'm the little guy, and even though I've had that for the past couple of years, I miss the old days."  
  
"I understand" Jukebox said, as they walked toward camp. The two of them were silent. Carl began to become lost in his own thoughts. What did his mom think? Did she worry about him? Was Mrs. Winter regretting the fact she didn't know didley-squat about her patients?  
  
"Do you want to talk about what happened that day?" Jukebox asked, bringing Carl back to Camp Greenlake.  
  
"What?" Carl asked, forgetting where he was for a second. "Sorry – I was in my own little world, can you repeat the question?"  
  
"I asked if you wanted to talk about what happened the day you were arrested. You had a look of sadness on your face, I was wondering if you needed to talk." Jukebox said. Carl wondered for a second. "It really does help, you know, especially if you haven't yet."  
  
Carl realized this was true. No one had bothered to listen to his full side of the story. At court, the only reason Mrs. Winter had had to resign was because the judge thought Carl looked "normal" enough to have good reason. His mother of course didn't listen, and there was no one else he could turn to. So Carl began from the beginning – from when his dad lost job right up until Mrs. Winter left him cold and lonely in his straightjacket. Jukebox made a very good listener. He never interrupted, and when Carl came to the end, put his arm around him.  
  
"That's rough, kid. But you know, you do have all of us here, who, like you, had no where to go. Something happened to all of us along the way. You are not alone."  
  
"What did you do?" Carl asked. He figured that Jukebox might also wanted to talk.  
  
"I killed a man."  
  
"What? Why? How? Who?" Jukebox laughed.  
  
"Questions, kid. I like that. I had this girlfriend, see, and we were out at a party one night where everyone was drunk. Well, Alexa and I were no exceptions. So this classmate of mine carries of and rapes Alexa, and then killed her that night. I loved her. So when he came back to the party, his fly was open and he was covered in blood. I guessed what had happened, so I put some date rape in his drink and threw him out the window. I've been here ever since." Carl was dumbstruck.  
  
"So – how long are you here for?" Carl asked, fearing he knew the answer.  
  
"Life. It's close to bed time – come on. Lets go." He put his arm around Carl and walked toward the sunset. 


	9. Fights And Wings

Disclaimer: Same as before.

Chapter Nine

As the days went on, Carl became stronger. Sure, being the only thirteen year old among fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen year olds was challenging and it meant that until he was their age he would never be able to lift as much dirt as them, but no one really seemed to care. The shorter shovel, which had been solely Magnets, had been given to him to use.

"I've been here the longest, but you are younger then the rest of us, and there for you should have it" Magnet announced in the tent one night. "I hereby forfeit my right to the smaller hole, and give it to Dime"

"Dime" had become Carl's nickname. He liked it. He now had a new name, new friends, and could forget about the past. He decided that once he got out of Camp, he would demand to live with someone other than his mother. Maybe Aunt Shelly. He had always liked her, and she was the one sibling who did not get involved in the arguments. Carl could imagine himself doing it. He would be almost fifteen when he got out of here.

At dinner about two months after he arrived, he was sitting down, poking his beans. The table was unusually silent.

"Yo man" Magnet said suddenly. "Put your arms down" Carl silently agreed. Armpit was called armpit because of what happened when he picked his arms up, especially at dinner.

"That's right, I can't eat when my eyes are watering that much" Zigzag said, failing to eat and talk while plugging his nose.

"Kid, this is Camp Greenlake, where everyone lives together in very tight quarters." Jukebox said calmly. "And I mean very tight.

Carl was glad that he hadn't gotten a very derogatory name like Armpit had but before he could put his two cents in, a gooey substance hit him in the back of the head. He turned around, and saw The Lump laughing at him.

"That bastard" Squid snarled, standing up. "Hey asshole! Come pick on someone your own size!"

The large kid stood up so fast his fork went flying to the table behind him.

"What was that you just called me, Punk?"

"I told you to pick on someone your own size, and I called you an asshole!"

The Lump came at Squid with remarkable speed for someone his size, but it was still slow enough that Squid was ready for him. Just as the Lump was putting his arms out to beat up Squid, Squid took a flying leap and latched his hands around The Lump's neck. The Lump, caught off guard staggered back a few steps. As Squid began to tighten his grip, Carl realized that Squid was losing even more control of his temper. Carl ran to the battle scene, jumped up high, and grabbing the back of his jumpsuit pulled squid to the floor. The doors flew open, and The Warden rushed in.

"Squid! Lumpy! In my office NOW!" Squid got to his feet and strutted. The Lump waddled in the rear.

The tent members stared at him as Carl came back to his seat.

"Wow man, where'd you learn that? X-Ray asked, clearly surprised.

"That was like awesome!" Barfbag said, impressed. Jukebox laughed.

"Kid, we shoulda called you Wings."


End file.
